Erava
by Stars of Artemis
Summary: They said the war was won 17 years ago. They never said what was lost. 'The cruiser starts moving in ways it shouldnt, twisting and turning and buckling, parts sliding over each other like dry ice dancing on the countertop. Its cruel and beautiful, a strange dance of mechanics and insanity she'll never be able to unsee, and the small world of everything shes ever known falls apart.
1. Mission City

_The sprawling city shone in the darkness, the streets hummed with life and the traffic was just beginning to flow. Restaurants poured music out into the still air, pedestrians were finishing their late shopping and business men were hurrying for taxis home from work. Mission City was finishing with an unusually calm night after a brilliantly clear day, beginning to still underneath the endless, darkness of the sky…_

It should have been their first warning, that of all the places on earth, this city was the one to be attacked.

"_Taxi!" shouted a balding agent, waving his briefcase at the yellow car that screeched to a stop on the curb. The customers at the late night café continued to murmur, undisturbed. A tiny light glimmered in the sky._

That out of every battleground on the planet, the one that bore the first scars of alien invasion was the first to be wrecked after seventeen blissful, if not tense and suspicious years of peace…

_A car honked its horn loudly. A snarling police cruiser prowled up the street, weaving in and out of traffic as easily as a dark panther stalks its prey through the trees of a forest. The light grew brighter._

Then again, the things that are the most important always seem to be the ones that we most often miss.

_At the mouth of an alley, a giant tow truck sat parked, waiting…_

It's always the places we never look; the facts we never pay attention to, the hints we leave behind. Even hints…

_Mission City. ETA, two minutes…_

…as large as a city.

_Look mommy!" exclaimed a little girl with braids in her pale blonde hair, pointing a tiny, stubby finger up at the sky. "A shooting star!"_

Then again- it could have been a rogue.

_The small, round streak in the sky suddenly got ten times bigger. People on the street were staring…_

There hadn't been a united forefront of aliens since…since Giza, nearly seventeen years ago. Didn't it make sense that at the time, it just didn't seem possible? Not everyone can be the Oracle of Delphi…

_The cries of the people suddenly ceased, even the cars were quiet, every face turned toward the sky, their features illuminated by the frizzling screens of static of televisions in shop windows and by the orange glow that began to light up the night. The only sound was the church bells in the steeple of the square- nine 'o clock, sharp._

_The great ball of fire crashed into one of the tallest skyscrapers of the city, the tow truck that was in the alley was suddenly alive and buckling, unfolding, the police car roared up the street, and above all the screaming and roaring of the fire, there was a single, reverberating alien screech that none who heard ever got the chance to tell again…_

But still, they should have known.


	2. Fallen City

_August 24, 2027_

_Mission City, California_

_0700 A.M_

"This is so not worth loosing two hours of sleep over." complained a voice from the back seat of the van. A girl riding shotgun twisted around in her seat to look in disbelief at the brown-haired man.

"The city was kind of attacked by terrorists, Tony. I'm pretty sure it's worth it."

Tony, sitting on a short stool in front of a wall of computers and technology wired into the side of the van, glared at her crabbily. "There's hundreds of teams in the area. We didn't have to be the one."

"Would you rather be back at the base?"

"I'd rather sit in front of a computer in my squishy roll-y chair than in front of a bunch of computers on a stool."

"Oh. Poor you."

"Do you want to switch places, rookie? Cause I'd gladly ride in a place where the chair isn't crushing my butt."

"I'll tell you what you can do with that stool-"

"Will you two _knock_ it off!" demanded an older man driving the car. He swerved a bit in the lane just to prove his point, effectively earning a chorus of honks from outside and throwing the girl against the window and the man off his seat, onto the floor. "I've got enough of a damn headache from the general this morning, I don't need one from _you_ two."

The girl and Tony didn't say anything, only glanced halfway at each other, dislike still clear on their faces. Tony didn't really mean what he said- and she knew it. But both of them were a little pissed off at loosing so much sleep, being dragged out to Nevada for a stupid award given to the Head, and the prospect of the hours-long flight back home.

On normal teams, a terrorist attack might knock some sense into its members. But _this _team was far from normal.

"Why does the general have you upset, boss?" asked Tony, clambering back onto his stool and swinging around to check a few monitors.

"He doesn't have me upset." growled their boss. "He just has me…irritated."

The girl grimaced. An irritated Jethro Gibbs was worse than…well, there wasn't much it _wasn't _worse than. Erava, who had only been with NCIS for about three months, had already heard all of the tales told around the hardened ex-marine around the Lennox home, when Will was ranting about his job again.

"Well then," continued Tony, "why does he have you irritated?"

"_You _have me irritated, Dinozzo." snapped Gibbs, jerking the steering wheel sharply again, this time cutting across a small gold minivan to pull into the passing lane. Erava was thrown against the window again, and a thud from the back alerted her that Tony had also suffered the same fate as last time.

"Okay, if you don't want to talk about it…" Tony said in a high, slightly frightened voice, climbing back up onto his stool for the second time. Erava was certain that the only things that scared Tony in the world were Gibbs, Ziva and ex-girlfriends.

"Remind me why we let you get behind the wheel again?" Erava asked, glancing at Gibbs with a half smirk on her face.

"Because I'm the boss, Tony can't be trusted with a _toy _car, much less a real one, and we're sure as _hell _not letting _you _drive."

Erava's eyes narrowed. "I'd get us there faster." she retorted.

Gibbs only snorted. "It's part of your sentence. No driving till you're twenty one."

Erava glared out the window, hands clutching the armrest till her nails cut into the soft upholstery. To hell with the leather of his shiny black car.

"Well, personally, I think we're getting there pretty fast for city traffic." piped up Tony from the back.

"That's because the police have been walling off traffic to the city over a mile out." replied Gibbs smoothly, nearly sideswiping a blue escalade. He glanced at the passing vehicle. "They're gonna get pulled for not having license plates." Gibbs muttered, his eyes on the car through the rearview mirror as it speed away.

"Nearly a mile off?" asked Tony in surprise. "What is this, a safety issue?"

"More like an Area 51 issue." muttered Gibbs, glaring at the makeshift gate set up by security just outside the city.

"Is that why you're mad at the general?" asked Erava, picking up on his anger. She also wasn't above poking the bear with the stick, so to speak.

The bear ignored her. And then the city finally came into view beyond the trees, and Erava forgot all of her anger at Gibbs at once.

"Holy…hell." she whispered.

Tony leapt off his stool and leaned over into the front of the car, holding the back of their chairs for support as he craned his neck to look out the window shield. "Damn." he whispered, eyes wide with horror.

They weren't even inside the city yet, but the evidence of destruction was clear. Smoke was rising from several sky scrapers and some parts not yet visible in the city. Giant black craters gaped in the sides of the architecture, and, most impressively of all, one giant skyscraper was leaning over like a fallen tree, resting against the side of another building at a forty degree angle.

How could _one _group of terrorist have done all this?

They drove through the streets swiftly and carefully, and for once Tony was rendered into silence. It was as bad as it could have been- _worse_. Entire buildings crushed and crumbled, giant crevices and craters and gouges larger than cars marking the roads, as if a tank had been dragged through the asphalt. Cars were smashed and even stripped along the edges of the road and up on the sidewalks, smoke filtered in through the ventilation system and caused them all to take shorter breaths. Windows broken, trees crushed, lampposts smashed, entire buildings blasted open like some gruesome carcasses, charred rubble littering the streets. Chaos ensued everywhere as sirens wailed on police cars that tried to evacuate the remaining civilians out of the city, on fire trucks as they tried to put out the still-blazing shops and move victims from collapsed buildings, and on ambulances as they sped through the streets, racing to get said victims to a nearby hospital and remove those that they were already too late to save. Erava had never seen so many white sheets before in her life.

Gibbs finally pulled to a stop outside an intersection roped off by yellow caution tape, near the heart of the city. Erava opened the heavy black door and slid out of the car, eyes wide as she took in the full extent of the damage around her. Glass tinkled at her feet as she landed- it was everywhere, like a thousand broken diamonds, a million shed tears. The smell of smoke hit her even stronger than before, the shouts of people now audible with the removal of the bulletproof glass.

She turned to find Gibbs walking past her, to duck under the caution tape while Tony unloaded equipment from the back of the van. To her shock, Erava realized Gibbs had paused on the other side and was holding the tape up for her.

She quickly followed in suit, dodging under the plastic. Gibbs let it go the second she was over, letting it snap and bounce in the wind.

"How can one group do so much damage?" she wondered, eyes wide. "How did the military let them get his far?"

"I don't know." answered Gibbs, stormy eyes hard as he stared over to a group of officials leaning over a map, next to an absurd flaming blue semi. "But that is exactly what I intend to find out."

That was when it suddenly hit Erava. Gibbs wasn't angry because the entire recovery mission was so secretive- he was furious because it had gotten so out of control. "What do we do?" Erava asked, glancing around.

"Get samples of the missile fire that is embedded in the streets and figure out how many enemies attacked the city. The government wasn't really counting when they finally managed to kick them out."

Erava opened her mouth to protest. She wanted to find people and help, not be a scientist in the middle of a crisis. Gibbs halted and silenced her with a glare and a half-raised hand. "That's an order, agent." he said quietly, eyes dark and serious.

Technically, she wasn't an agent. Erava wasn't even officially part of the team. But Gibbs thought otherwise- especially after an incident that involved a crazy Hamas terrorist chase in the middle of a crowded street, and Erava, on the way to the school bus, had noticed everything- from the man's face to Gibbs and Tony running down the sidewalk with guns in their hands, pointed at the ground. She had intercepted him before he got close to the crowd of middle scholars that were waiting for a late school bus. In a stroke of pure genius, the girl had bumped into him, then began screaming at him in Spanish for pick pocketing her wallet and kicked him in the groin.

Gibbs' trust had been hers since that day, and it was only thanks to him her life was back on track and going somewhere, even if that somewhere was just a cubicle to fill out reports and occasionally tag along on team field missions…so far.

So Erava just swallowed an nodded, though her mind was screaming curses. She wasn't going to make him sorry he'd brought her.

Gibbs nodded and turned to walk away. "And get your hair up and your hat on." he called back crossly, as he headed over to the group of men next to the Peterbuilt.

Erava really didn't have a choice but to comply.

A broken whistle was all Tony could manage as he snapped some pictures of one of the massive black craters, crouching down to get a better angle. "What the hell do you think could have made this thing?" he asked, indicating towards the mess as he stood up.

"A mini nuclear bomb?" Erava asked sarcastically, looking down and marking measurements on a sketch pad. "Tony, you know the armory as well as I do, and Gibbs knows it even better. _Nothing _could make a mark like this. There's something going on here."

"Well, they're certainly not going to tell us." observed Tony, cocking an eyebrow at the group of men, who Gibbs was now arguing passionately with. "Though after they get a load of Gibbs, though, is another story…I wonder what they used that semi for."

Erava shrugged. "It doesn't have a trailer. Couldn't be of much use, huh? Maybe they were hauling rubble off with it."

Tony photographed an impact ripple with a brilliant flash and a mechanical whining sound, careful to get the right lightning for Abby. "Wouldn't be of much use parked there, and doesn't explain the giant burns all over it."

Erava glanced down at him, eyebrows knitted in confusion. But before she could turn around, a voice called her attention from the left.

"Excuse me." called a voice from behind them. Tony, still crouched next to the crater, craned his neck to see the speaker. It was a young soldier, a woman with long brown hair tied back into a strict ponytail. "Did you just say that you worked under Jethro Gibbs?" she asked, coming forward to look curiously at Erava and Tony.

"Why yes." said Tony, a flirtatious smile spreading across his face. "Of course, NCIS is not for the faint of heart. It takes a strong soul to work under a man like-"

"Are the rumors true then?" she asked, cutting him off. "All of them?"

"That what?" asked Erava, flashing her a grin at Tony's expense. "That criminals would rather confess than be interrogated by him?"

"That his steely blue gaze can cool a room by ten degrees?" said Tony smoothly.

"That he can only be killed by a silver bullet?"

"Nah, that one's not true." Tony said, neither looking away from the hispanic girl. "Silver bullet might give him heartburn, but it couldn't kill him."

The soldier laughed briefly, her face slipping slightly out of its stern exterior. "No, I meant that he dragged you guys all the way out here to investigate, against orders from the director of the CIA."

"Oh." said Tony in surprise. "Yeah, it's true. That's why we're out here instead of in D.C- we had a meeting with the Board, and an official ceremony. Then terrorists decide to strike the day of said ceremony and- _surprise_-" he gestured at the whole scene around him, "- we get called in to do some investigating because we're the only capable team out here, because Gibbs and the Director can't stand to have one navy federal investigation without us, and because a small squadron of marines out for a drink the night of the attack were killed. Best work vacation ever."

The woman blinked in surprise at Tony's long and passionate tale. "Well, I um…that's certainly impressive. We have heard some of those rumors, actually." she said, glancing back behind her and two other soldiers standing on a ruined curb, talking quietly and staring in the trio's direction. "We weren't sure whether or not he'd have the bearings to defy the CIA…and now Angela owes me some money." she added in a quiet voice, eyeing her friend with the blonde hair. The other woman hurriedly looking away, seeming suddenly incredibly interested at whatever her brunette companion was saying.

"You were taking bets?" asked Erava in surprise.

"Yeah…it's sort of a bad habit of my squadron." the woman confessed sheepishly. She leaned in, a sly look suddenly on her face. "I heard a major criminal wanted in like, two states is now working on his team. Is it true?"

Erava glared up at the woman, but felt a little amused. "Yes, it is." she said curtly.

"Said the criminal." snickered Tony, obviously enjoying himself.

The woman's expression froze. She looked at Erava carefully now, reproachful. "Um…well, sorry, I didn't…"

"Awkward." sang Tony from the sidelines.

"Shut up." Erava snapped at him. She turned back to the woman. "Yeah, I'm said criminal. I didn't shoot anyone, you know- just made a few mistakes."

"Like stealing cars from the most expensive dealerships in the world." added Tony, "and associating with the most wanted gangsters in America. And becoming the police's number fourteen most wanted in Virginia, number three in Maryland, and number five in D.C. She sent them on a wild goose chase for nearly two years. But she's dead useful, but we can't risk her getting behind the wheel for another four years."

"Thank you, idiot, for narrating my life." snapped Erava. "Now will you please get back to work?" she turned back to find the woman sneaking her friends a sly glance. "Were you betting on that too?" she asked.

The woman looked extremely sheepish. "Yes." she mumbled. Erava raised her eyebrows.

"Bad habit of my squadron." the woman repeated.

"Squadron?" Tony perked up on the word, missed by both of them before. "What squadron are you in?"

"The 31rst." The woman flashed him a brief smile and offered him a hand. "I'm Lieutenant Gabriella Lopez."

"Tony Dinozzo." Erava's partner responded, eagerly shaking hands.

"Um…" Gabriella looked a little uncomfortable, and pulled her hand out of Tony's grip. "So what are you guys doing?" she asked.

"Classified." said Erava, stowing her kit quickly away. She had already gotten a sample of the substance that coated the edges of the crater- a small piece, still in its liquid state. It was like…nuclear liquid fire. She'd have to get it back to Abby for testing.

"What isn't these days?" asked Gabriella with a sigh.

Erava straightened up. "Were you present during the attack?" she asked.

"Yes." responded Alexis. "My squadron was the one that responded the SecDef's air strike order."

Tony raised his eyebrows in surprise. "And you're still alive to tell about it?" he asked, clearly impressed.

Gabriella grimaced. "I am, but half my squadron isn't. One of those damn flyers got us from behind…"

"What?" asked Erava. "What happened?" Flyers…that meant this hadn't been like the 9/11 attack. It had been like the first Mission City battle- violent, drawn out, multiple enemies. Too bad the Mission City records were so restricted, there obviously wasn't enough evidence to compare, except for maybe a few crazed robot-fans.

Gabriella looked a little uncomfortable. "Um…I don't know how much trouble I could get in for recounting…"

Tony pulled out his NCIS badge. "We're here investigating." he said, all flirtatious manner gone. "We're supposed to report in how many enemies there were."

"Anything you tell us could be of great help." Erava added, bringing out a small notepad, even that was so 2000.

"Well…we came in on a response call, but then we were attacked from behind, it was…I think it was a jet." she said quickly, eyes suddenly going blank. "I'm not sure what kind. I didn't see any markers. We managed to take it out, and that was about it before my plane went down."

"Lopez!" bellowed a man from the table. Gabriella glanced back worriedly.

"Sorry, I guess I have to go." she said, suddenly looking extremely relieved.

"Will we be seeing you later?" asked Tony, that smile suddenly back in place.

Gabriella sighed and suddenly glanced at the sky. "Sorry, I've already got one guy telling me what to do." she grumbled, before turning and hurrying back to the table.

Tony and Erava exchanged a very confused glance.

"Was she was talking about God?" asked Tony, glancing up at the empty sky.

Erava blinked slowly. "Um…maybe. She did survive falling out of a jet, so I'd be pretty grateful to any higher entity out there…"

"Still, she had an interesting story." remarked Tony. "If they shot the guy down, then where is his plane?"

Erava gave him a thoughtful glance. "I'm not sure." she said. "Maybe the government cleaned it up for some reason…either way, she was definitely hiding something." Erava glanced at Gabriella's two friends standing on the corner, who quickly looked away. "They all are."

Tony snorted. "Just what we need. Another conspiracy."

Erava frowned and watched as a burly medic loaded a man into the back of his Search & Rescue hummer.

"Will you two _get back to work_?" snarled Gibbs from behind them, causing both the agents to jerk as if someone had slapped them.

"Right away boss!" declared Tony, snapping a picture of a building, just for emphasis. Although as soon as Gibbs' back was turned, he aimed it instead at Gabriella's friend, Angela.

"What did the bigwigs say?" asked Erava, jabbing a thumb back at the table.

"The same _crap_." spat Gibbs. "I'm getting really sick of all this top-secret classified stuff."

"You think an inside job did all of this?" whispered Erava, leaning in, eyes grave and alarmed.

"That's what it looks like." he muttered, looking over her head at the table. "They won't tell me anything- where the terrorists landed when they were shot down, what happened to the bodies, I can't even get the plane or a description of what they looked like."

"Did they know we were coming?" Tony asked quietly, still looking over at Angela.

"No." answered Gibbs curtly.

"That explains the lack of an excuse." Erava pointed out. If someone just says "classified" to every word, they can obviously think of nothing better to say.

"Do we have a RAPTOR here?" wondered Erava quietly.

Gibbs paused. Then a pointed look came on his face and he smirked and said, "Oh, we've got one." he walked away quickly to talk with the bigwigs.

Erava and Tony glanced at each other.

"I'll make a phone call." she piped.

"I'll make some friends." he said, grinning.

Erava rolled her eyes and pulled out her cell phone, speed dialing McGee.

"NCIS, special agent Timothy McGee." said the formal, albeit a little small voice on the other line.

"Hey probie, it's me."

"Erava!" McGee yelled into the phone. "Thank god! Do you know what it's like around here with all Abby and no Gibbs? She caught my jacket on-"

There was the sound of a sharp smack, followed by a bright, rough voice. "He is lying!" Abby squealed. "I did not catch anything on fire. But I did accidentally kind if cause this small gas leak-"

"Is anyone dead?" Erava interrupted.

"No…"

"Good. Then put McGee back on the phone." Erava fought a grin.

"You're no fun." Abby pouted, and the speaker was handled roughly before Tim's voice came back through it.

"So what's up? How's Mission City?"

"Like a giant toddler was dropped out here in search of a teddy bear." Erava told him. "Balance problems and all. Hey listen, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"We've got a RAPTOR."

"…Please tell me you found an injured bird on the side of the road."

"Nope."

"Dang."

"Gibbs needs you to hack the signal. They've got a van, and…well…" McGee would know that whatever information they had on the attack would be stored in there.

"I'm on it." he said brightly, and Erava nodded before snapping the phone shut.

"Samples?" Gibbs asked quietly. He must have wandered back over sometime during her phone conversation.

"Already done." replied Erava, casting a careful glance around, and showing Gibb's the vials under her jacket. Technically, they weren't supposed to take the sample outside of the SecDef's range, but Gibbs was suspicious, as well as curious. Abby should be able to tell what the crap was before anyone in Area 51, anyway.

"Dinozzo, load up the stuff and check it through the computer. I want Abby on a videoconference when I get in there."

"Why do I always get stuck with the computers?" whined Tony.

"Because Gibbs' technological knowledge doesn't extend out of 2005, and because computers hate me." Erava responded, a grin smirking on her face. Rather than risk Erava behind the screen of the machines, although still grumbling to himself, Tony complied. She wasn't exaggerating- having Erava around computers was as dangerous as having her behind the wheel of a sports car.

"You know, I'm surprised." Erava told him, as they wandered back over to the van, stepping over deep gauges in the asphalt.

"What?" asked Tony, taking off his NCIS cap and tossing it in the backseat.

"No movie references. None at all. Why?" Tony not making at least three video comparisons per investigation was unheard of.

Tony opened one of the back doors, then looked down at her, looking uncharacteristically grave. There was no bright sparkle in his eyes, no cocky grin. "Because I can honestly think of nothing to compare this to." he said quietly. "Whatever happened here was revolutionary, and I haven't watched enough SciFi to know what the hell to think."

Erava frowned, more anxious than ever before. Wordlessly, she and Tony began to load up the crime scene equipment.

They had almost loaded up all the stuff, and the chaos was beginning to work its way into the afternoon by the time Gibbs was finally able to shake himself from the table. Who was _over _there?

"Let's go." he said, stalking over to the door to help Tony load the rest of the stuff. Erava was busy making her last note, _Seems to be hiding something, _on her notepad when a shout startled her and her team out of the blue.

"Miss Banes!" yelled a young ensign who had been hanging around the table with the bigwigs. Erava winced as one of the men glanced up sharply at the shout. "Are you Miss Banes?" he asked, looking questioningly at Erava. The girl nodded.

"A phone call." he said, offering up a slim black cell phone.

Erava glanced in confusion at Gibbs and Tony, who were watching her in puzzlement. She simply shrugged and took the phone.

"Hello?" she asked carefully.

"What the hell are you doing?" demanded the rough voice on the other end of the line. Erava blinked.

"_Will_?" she asked in shock. She hadn't spoken to her legal guardian in nearly four months.

"Yeah, it's me, kid. What the _hell _are you doing in Mission City?"

"Um…serving out my prison sentence?" Erava offered, staring back at the man. He was still almost…gaping at her.

Lennox groaned on the other end of the line. "Put Gibbs on the line."

Erava blinked, interrupting her staring contest with the tall man. "What?"

"You heard me." growled Lennox. "Gibbs. Phone. _Now_."

"Sheesh, Will." Erava remarked, breaking her gaze away from the man's. One thing she'd learned- if people stare at you, stare back. Normally it wierded them out. So what was with this guy? "Do you have to be so harsh?"

"Yes." he snapped. "Look, I can't explain it now, but…"

Erava zoned out as the Search & Rescue hummer she had seen earlier suddenly pulled up to the small group, a burly medic with a gray-streaked beard clambering out of the cab. He shared a few words with the man, and suddenly, he was staring at her too. What the _hell_?

"…you got that?"

"Hm?" said Erava, jerking her head.

"Are you listening to me?" demanded Will, tone dangerous as fire.

Wincing, knowing that when Will did act like this, he usually had a good reason, Erava turned her back on the table of bigwigs and the ensign, determined to get some privacy for her call. She couldn't concentrate with that tall guy's eyes on her.

"Sorry, Will-could you repeat that again?" she asked, wandering away from the group. Halfway across the street, she turned to see the ensign following her. "Do you _mind_?" she snapped, glaring at him. The man straightened and nodded nervously, before quickly backing off.

Erava turned on her heel and continued her stroll through the devastated streets, phone back up to her ear.

"Why can't I be in Mission City? Calm down, Will. You're freaking out on me. I didn't do anything this time."

"I know." sighed the man on the other end. Erava could just see him running his hands through his short blond hair in a mannerism. "I'm not worried about what you'll do, it's the psycho freaks around you that concern me."

Erava blinked. "Are you talking about Tony?" she wondered. "He's playing probie this time. And I know Gibb's driving isn't that good, but-"

"I'm not talking about you're psycho team." Will said. "Believe me, I know what it's like to work with people out of the norm. I meant the terrorists who blew up that city."

Erava looked around. "Will, I'm fine. The terrorists are gone. I know you were here last time, but-" she paused as she ducked under a fallen statue collapsed in the street, "-they're gone. And I'm with Gibbs, I'll be fine."

"Gibbs can only get so lucky, Erava." Will warned. "He can't protect you from everything."

"I know that." Erava pointed out, stepping carefully around a large black crater. "But that doesn't mean I can't-"

Lennox interrupted her then, but whatever he said was lost as the phone seemed to go through static.

"Will?" Erava asked, halting.

"Erava? You still with me?"

"Um, yeah, I guess I just…" Erava glanced behind her. A dead spot? It wasn't possible…something gleamed in the dim sun, reflecting dimly back into her eyes. Erava glanced down, and saw more of the liquid she had collected glistening along the edges of the crater. A sudden suspicion bloomed up in her mind, but she pushed it back as Will's tirade finally reached her ears.

"You can't be in Mission City. Not now. You have to get out, Erava- I'll talk with the Director of NCIS. But you have to go, now."

"Uh…" Erava blinked. "The director isn't here…."

Will cursed quietly under his breath. "You're not supposed to be there!" he yelled. "I know for a fact that the CIA ordered you not to go. I just had to sign you on with the _one _team that always breaks the rules. But please, Erava- get out, now. I'm not going to tell you again."

"You keep saying that." Erava said. "What's with you? I'm doing my job. I'm safe, okay? I've got Gibbs and the whole shebang. Perfectly sa-"

The soft growl of an engine suddenly rang out, as a sleek silver sports car caught Erava's eye as it edged around the corner. _What?_

Cars that nice didn't drive by often in downtown, Mission City. Especially after everything had been crashed or stripped. And hadn't all civilians been evacuated?

"Safe." Erava repeated, turning her back on the vehicle and walking more quickly down the street, mind whirling. Was it one of the gang lords? He would see her jacket…he wouldn't think of attacking a _fed_…

"Erava…" Will sighed. "I can't explain it, not now. But it's not good for you to be in Mission City. Not your team, just _you_."

Erava froze halfway through cutting around a corner. "What?"

"Just get out. I'll explain later."

"No, you need to explain _now_." snarled Erava, continuing around the crashed shop. She was starting to get angry- with Will trying to be cryptic, and over the fact that the silver car was still following her.

"I can't." Will said in a plain voice.

"Why not?"

"Classified." he said, his voice tight. Yet there seemed to be an undertone of anger at the word. How many times had she heard him say that at home? Anything that had to do with Will's job and the elusive NEST was classified.

A thought clicked. "Is this something about your job?" Erava demanded, speeding down the ruined street she had ended up on. There was no one back here- except for small Silver Boy poking slyly around the corner she had just passed. Okay, now Erava _knew _he was following her.

Will's silence was the only answer she needed.

"Hell." Erava whispered. "Will, does the government know who did this? You know, don't you? I know you were in the last Mission City attack."

"Just get out, Erava. Please." Will whispered in a tight voice. Erava could almost see him- eyes shut tight and strained, hands clenching something that he was probably struggling not to break. Furious that he was a famous major and a hardened soldier, and could do nothing that would make her leave.

"I'm staying, Will. NCIS is going to figure out whose behind this." she warned him. "You know Gibbs doesn't really give a damn about government restrictions." Erava recalled how Ziva and Tony had broken into a top secret naval base to investigate the death of a marine. The navy had yet to figure out who was behind the attack.

"Erava-"

"No." she said firmly. "I'm not just going to leave on your say so. I have a job to do, and nothing you can say will-"

"Erava?" Will asked suddenly, his voice breaking up into static.

"Will?" the girl demanded in alarm. She checked her phone. Four bars. She was in the middle of a freaking city for Christ's sake- what was going on?

"Will?" she asked again, pressing the phone close to her ear.

"Erava!" shouted Will, panic lacing his tone.

"Hang on, I'm losing you-" she glanced at the ground, but no craters. Puzzled, Erava hurried down the street, now ignoring the silver car's soft, quiet growl behind her and focusing on Will's panicked voice laced with static.

"Will?" she asked, again, still finding no craters on the street. Confused, her eyes flickered upwards.

Erava's mouth must have fallen open, because suddenly it was very dry and she could hardly breathe. But she didn't notice. In fact, she even forgot about the giant, ruined city all round her. She forgot about the sports car.

Erava had found the plane. It had crashed into a small shop, completely taking out the roof and the front wall that faced the street. It looked almost vertical, charred and streaked with black and silver. The nose of the jet was smashed into the ground, the tail was sticking up into the air, resting against the roof. The right wing had been half-melted off, all the glass in the cockpit had been shattered.

There wasn't a body.

Erava's shocked mind took a few seconds to process that. But the only other thing she noticed was that the wing that had been half-melted was oddly contorted, almost in a strange, long shape that seemed almost like an arm before she was interrupted. Painfully.

A vice-like grip suddenly clenched around her upper arm, and Erava's head snapped in shock as she was jerked back wildly, nearly loosing her balance in the middle of the street. She would have, if someone hadn't been holding her so damn tight.

Erava reached blindly for her gun, and froze when she saw the person looming over her. Erava titled her head up, staring like the bird caught in the eyes of a snake as her eyes locked with a pair of unnaturally, brilliantly intense blue eyes. Eyes that were glaring at her with all the biting cold of a snowstorm.

"This is off limits." growled the man, towering over her threateningly. He had jerked her back so that he was between the thing and her, effectively blocking her view.

"What the hell?" Erava managed to choke out.

Mystery-black haired-model like- early twenties man smirked. "I said," he repeated slowly, as if he were talking to someone mentally incompetent, "That this area is off limits. Is that honestly too hard to understand?"

Erava glared up at his six feet four inches. Intimidating this man may be, she was still the one with a gun and four criminal-hardened years under her wing. Not to mention Gibbs.

"I understand." she snapped. "What I don't get is why you're so set on breaking my _arm_." she jerked her right arm away wildly, but his fingers didn't let up a centimeter from their numbing grip.

The smirk was suddenly replaced by a look of boredom, and slight exasperation. "It's not breaking your arm. I'm just trying to enforce a point."

"Well, congratulations, point enforced." she spat, still struggling wildly. "Can you let _go _now?"

The man raised an eyebrow. And then, quite suddenly, he released her. Erava stumbled backwards and just barely managed to keep her balance, thanks to NCIS training. She straighten up, glaring with all the venom she could muster. People at school used to humiliate her a lot- just because she had never been able to find to niche in the crowd. And this guy looked like one she definitely couldn't mess with. Then again, the thought of his perfect face marred by a broken nose was so attractive, she couldn't help but feeling sly at the thought.

"Forgive me." he said, still looking bored and not sounding sorry at all. "You just didn't seem like the kind of person who would move if I asked them."

"Well, maybe you should work on your people skills." Erava suggested icily.

He coked a dark eyebrow at her. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave now." he said bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm a federal investigater." Erava growled. "Which means I have a right to investigate. Now let me by."

"No."

Erava blinked. "I can always call for back up." she warned.

"This flight vehicle is of limits to everyone outside of certain government clearance and is under the property of the United States. Call for back up all you want," he said, "but you're still not going to get it."

Erava sighed heavily, anger bubbling in her chest. She was right there, and here this ridiculous guy was, blocking her from solving this entire screw up. They needed that plane.

But she also wasn't looking forward to getting her arm fractured again.

"Fine!" she snapped, and whirled around, heading up the street and the way she came, intent on finding Gibbs and getting the hell out of there.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" asked an unconcerned, superior voice from behind.

Erava blatantly ignored him and continued on her way. She'd find it eventually- all she had to do was follow the smoke.

As soon as she got back, Erava took one look at the van and completely forgot all her anger. "What happened?" she asked in disbelief, staring at all the screens.

Tony pounded a fist on the side of the monitor, but the snow that filled the screen didn't change. "Probie." he growled, looking furious. "I'm going have him thrown in geek prison for this."

"They crashed our system." Gibbs said quietly, and by the look on his face, he had already passed the yelling and fury stage. "Whatever they've got in that van, it's big."

Erava cast a glance over at the table. Silver Boy was already there, climbing gracefully out of his car and stopping to check with Tall Guy and Burly Medic. "You have no idea." she muttered.

"You find something on your little trip, Banes?" asked Gibbs, his stormy eyes unreadable.

"Yeah." she whispered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Silver cast a glance at her. "I'll tell you in the van."

Gibbs considered her carefully while Tony slammed the computers and cursed all things technology. And then he nodded.

"Okay." he said, and turned around to climb in the car. Erava hesitated, casting one last glance at the ruined city. She felt…strange, looking at it. As if she had seen it all happen in another lifetime. Was that how all destruction was?

"Banes!" thundered Gibbs, followed by a loud horn blast from the car. "You coming or not?"

Erava tore her eyes away from the shattered skyscrapers, blinking at herself in confusion. Then she got into the van before Gibbs could speed away without her.

"It wasn't her, Optimus." Ratchet murmured. The great commander turned to look at the medic, his face grave and his eyes sad.

"I know, Ratchet," he said, turning to watch the car speed away, before it disappeared around a ruined corner. "I just can't keep from wishing."

"None of us can." the Ratchet replied carefully. "She did look astonishingly like her…but she's not."

"I know." the man repeated. The boy who had intercepted the girl drifted away from the superior's table, an annoyed expression on his face.

"Can we go soon?" he asked, eyes cold. "There's no more reason for us to stay. The Decepticons have moved on."

"They were looking for something." said Ratchet, turning to look at Optimus. "That's why they tore the city apart."

"The question is, what?" Optimus wondered, turning his bright eyes to the stars. "What were they looking for, and why here? What else does Earth hold that they could want?"

"The Allspark?" suggested Ratchet. "We never found out what really happened to it after Giza. After…"

And expression of pain flickered across Optimus' face. "They must be looking for it."

"The girl saw the plane." The boy said suddenly, standing up a little straighter. "I didn't reach her in time, but she saw it. I think she smuggled some samples out as well. They could be in danger if those beakers break and Decepticons pick up on the signal. _And _there's no telling what she could say about the plane."

Optimus nodded. "Their headquarters are in Washington D.C. We should check on them and get the samples back once we return. Sideswipe, you are in charge of keeping them out of trouble. Just make sure they don't get too many leads on this."

"Okay." he said shortly, glaring off into the gathering darkness.

The commander looked back down the road and sighed.

"There was nothing you could have done, Optimus." Ratchet said quietly. "What happened then was in no way your fault. Megatron is the only one to blame."

"She was our last hope." Optimus said quietly. "After so many years, and that child was all we had. When I saw her, I almost thought…"

"She does look extraordinarily like how she would have been." Ratchet acknowledged. "But it's impossible, Optimus…Erava Banes died seventeen years ago."


	3. Crashes and Cases

"_As for your next Microsoft Excel project, you will be using quadratic functions to eliminate specific variables in a selection of data-"_

_Blah, blah, blah_.

The room was dark, the lights in the ceiling turned off so that the Smart Board at the front of the room would shine. Mr. Phillips was ranting softly again- in that nerdy voice that was somehow hard to describe. It was extremely geeky, but in an _undertone _of nerd, so that he sounded more like an engineer instead of a lame computer teacher. And somehow, he always sounded like he was laughing at the technology he used and teached.

It was easily putting her to sleep.

Not that Erava really payed attention in here anyways. After several crashed systems, multiple lost files, getting locked out of the login network for a solid month, crashing Angela's computer _just by turning it on_, and too many frozen screens for her to count, she was permanently assigned to a seat on the end of the back row.

At least it was a slack class.

While all her other classmates sat in their rolling chairs in the very wide aisle in the middle of the room, apparently paying attention (or pretending to) Erava sat in the back. She had gotten into class early, so she had claimed the Nerd Throne- the extremely squishy black leather chair whose arm rests were pieced together with duck tape and that leaned back so far on its axis she nearly fell over each time. Apparently, the seniors who payed the highest got to use it their fourth year of high school. Her feet were propped up on the table, one crossed over the other, with the heels of her worn sneakers resting on the worn surface. And staring at the screen.

"And then you are going to list the functions in a specific order-"

Erava stiffened a yawn, and kept her head down and her eyes half shadowed by her hand. She was so bored and so thrown off from jet lag and Gibbs was probably going to be pissed when he got into work and found out that they were working a dead end case. _Erava _was still pissed off at that young government agent that had prevented her from seeing the plane- furious that she could see it just behind her closed lids, but unable to get a single picture of it on her phone.

Erava's hand twitched in annoyance.

Something sparkled out of the corner of her eye. The girl glanced over at the computer screen. Nothing was there. Frowning, she settled down farther into the Throne, staring at the screen instead of listening to the stupid lecture.

It wasn't _fair_. It wasn't fair that Silver Boy had kept her from seeing that plane, it wasn't fair that Will had gone all berserk army major on her after the disappointed silent treatment for four months, it wasn't fair that Homeland Security and the CIA were all over their asses for getting into this case.

Because yes- Homeland Security had gotten involved.

And it definitely wasn't fair that she was trapped in this hellhole instead of being able to do something about it.

"And then you will list them in a specific order…"

Erava gritted her teeth as annoyance rushed in her veins. Her head was clear; all she really concentrated on was that emotion of anger. Anger at being left out all the time. Anger at never really being able to help. Anger at being _nothing_…

"And then the Y axis will…"

She _hated _this class.

"…With a vertical line…"

She was still staring at the computer screen, not blinking.

"Going straight down…"

If only every last computer in this class would just…

"Till finally..."

_Shut down_…

It was only once the computer's fan starting spinning so loudly it was little less than a roar did Erava finally hear it, and realize how hard she was really concentrating on the screen; a screen that now had a frizzling of static darting all over the desktop. The confused glances off her classmates turned to startled gasps as with a loud snap and a puff of silver smoke, the hard drive of the computer literally exploded.

Erava sat bolt upright in her chair, clenching the armrests and breathing hard, and wondering what the hell just happened. All the kids in the class were exclaiming to each other now, and the sound of the fan was slowly fading away as the rudders stopped spinning.

"It's alright, it's _alright_." yelled Mr. Phillips, wading through the small group of rolling chair students to inspect the computer. He turned it upwards to peer into the monitor through the plastic vent, then set it down on the table with a loud thump.

"Erava Banes," he began, and she automatically knew she was in for it, "what have I told you about not touching computers in my class?"

Erava blinked. "But I didn't-"

"Oh, so the monitor just exploded on its own?" yelled her teacher, and as Erava looked at his blazing eyes behind the square rimmed spectacles in surprise, she realized who would be the one that would have to pay for the damage.

"But I _didn't_-"

Her teacher pointed a hand at the door. "Wait outside." he snapped.

Sighing heavily in defeat, Erava rose form the Nerd Throne and made her humiliating way through the throng of wide-eyed juniors towards the door. She could hear them muttering and whispering as she walked past, as if she wasn't even there.

"Did you see that?"

"The way she was staring at it-"

"Like it exploded just because she _wanted _it to-"

Erava snorted, effectively silencing the last boy into a stupor. She walked out the room and into the bright, empty hallway. Behind her, Mr. Phillips closed the door.

Erava moved so that she was out of the view from the door, and listened down the sterile clean hallway.

Silence. _Nothing_.

Erava rubbed her temple and slid towards the base of the wall, resting her back against it and settling onto the cold floor.

She had been _nothing _her whole life. Alone. Just like now. Just like always.

"That's one sad story, Tony." Snorted McGee, not even looking up from his computer screen.

"I know." he replied, leaning back in his chair with his feet up on his desk, clasping his hands behind his head. "But I survived, probie, and so will you."

"Survived what?" Ziva had arrived, with her black bag slung over her shoulder and her gun strapped around her waist.

"Tony was just telling me about his latest break up." McGee told her, glancing up and giving Ziva one of those sarcastic looks he saved solely for talking about or to Dinozzo.

"Already?" Ziva said, dropping her bag on the floor next to her chair and looking at Tony with interest in her deep, dark eyes. "That's the third one this month. What did you do this time?"

"It wasn't me." Tony said, a look of slight disgust on his face. "It was _her_."

"That's a new one." McGee snickered, typing on his keyboard with a smirk on his face.

"Doesn't the saying go, it's not you, it's me?" Ziva asked curiously, stowing (two) of her guns in the drawer under her desk.

"Usually." said Tony, "until the woman you've dated for only one week turns out to be…clingy." he grimaced at the ceiling. "Next thing I know she's stalking my twitter, Facebook, Myspace, and wants to know if I want to move in an apartment with her." He had his Dinozzo story voice on- the one that could make choosing between a number three on the dollar menu and a 99cent burrito at Taco Bell sound like making a choice between the Dark Side and being a Jedi.

Ziva laughed. "You sure know how to pick them." she said, logging on to her computer with ease.

Tony finally tore his eyes away from the ceiling, looking over his chest at the ex-Mossad agent. Then he slid his feet off his desk, still staring at Ziva.

"Yes, I do." he said, standing at crossing the distance between their desks slowly. "I have a gift. Everyone messes up. Usually it's not me, but I do make mistakes."

Ziva watched with raised eyebrows as he lifted his eyes to stare across the room with some far-away look. "Like Trey Breaker in Another Chance, 1993 version. Man makes it through his whole life without making a wrong decision, till one mistake…tears it all away from him!"

He finished in a violent shout, making a deep ripping gesture with his hands, his eyes alight with wild emotion.

"Did you ever try out for theatre?" asked Ziva skeptically, one hand under her chin, looking almost innocent.

"Yeah, he would have made a great Peter Pan." McGee offered.

"Yes," laughed Ziva. "the little boy who could never grow up."

"I've got it!" Tony suddenly yelled, turning around and snapping his fingers, ignoring the slight to his maturity.

"Got what?" Ziva asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"Battle: Los Angeles." Tony said, turning around to grin at both of them. "That terrorist attack. I should have seen it!" He thumped himself in the head with his palm. "Battle: Los Angeles, 2011 starring Michael Pena and Bridget Moynahan? Machines from the past that originally were involved with the first human civilizations and came back to reign down revenge on us all. It's just like it!"

"Except for the fact that those machines don't exist, Dinozzo." snapped Gibbs, cutting around the corner with a steaming mug of coffee in one hand.

"Morning boss." said Tony in a formal voice, shaping up immediately.

"Morning Gibbs." chimed Ziva, turning back to her computer. McGee echoed Tony, glancing up from his screen briefly before absorbing himself in whatever probie business he was up to.

"Do we have any hits on the samples from Mission City?" asked Gibbs, dropping his paper on his desk.

"Negative." replied McGee. "Abby hasn't gotten a chance to run a full scan yet, but she's working on it."

"Checked up on the interview with the pilot, boss." Said Tony, leaning against his desk with his arms crossed. "Her story checks out, but it's really vague. We could get more accurate descriptions from _civilians_."

"Did you try to contact another pilot?" asked Gibbs, throwing Tony a piercing gaze.

"Yeah, but the general over them is denying us a follow-up. Says it's something related to medical reasons."

Gibbs looked up from his computer screen, disbelief scrawled over his face. "Medical reasons?" he asked in a dangerous voice.

Tony shrugged. "That's what the CO said, boss, and his rank is far above ours. Even if you got the director involved, I don't think he could do anything."

Gibbs blinked. "_Medical _reasons?" he repeated, as if he still couldn't wrap his mind around it.

Tony's brow furrowed in confusion. "Yeah, boss-that's what I said."

Gibbs straightened. "What the hell kind of wuss squadron are we dealing with?" he yelled, staring at his team as if demanding an answer. "A bunch of little girls?"

When no one, clearly terrified, answered him, he shook his head and grabbed his cup. "I'm going to need more coffee." he muttered, stalking away from the cubicles.

There was a brief moment of silence. "But…" began Ziva, "The coffee shop is that way." she pointed toward the elevator.

McGee blinked. "Then…where's he going?"

Tony, whose eyes were still following Gibbs, took on a serious expression for the first time that day. "He's getting the director involved." he said, and they all turned to watch as Gibbs scaled the last of the steps, his gray hair gleaming like silver, before he vanished around the upstairs corner.

_This _would be interesting.

The lab was wiped down, the stainless steel tops glinting in the early sun and every screen and surface dust-free and ready to roll. The music was already pumping; early morning mojo didn't exist without that little kick of darkness- not in her book, anyways. Not that Abby would have a book. More like a super data-pad or her own Kindle…but not a _book_.

But, happy as Abby was to be up and ready for the morning to grow into afternoon, there was one unhappy face in her lab.

"They won't even let me have the _bodies_!" exclaimed Doctor Mallard. He still had on his traveling hat and long cloak, and his distress was starting to concern the scientist. "Seven Marines killed in this attack, and they won't even let me do an autopsy on one."

"Relax, Ducky." Abby called easily over her shoulder. She focused on awakening the computer in front of her, preparing to get her babies up and running for the tests they were about to perform _somewhat _illegally.

"I just don't understand." said Ducky, shaking his head. "Why would they be keeping this whole disaster such a secret from us?"

"That's what Gibbs is trying to figure out." Abby chimed, still busy on the screen. "Don't worry, Ducky. Maybe we can smuggle a body in here like they did with my samples."

"No, no…I'm afraid that is not going to happen." Ducky fretted.

Abby frowned. "Don't be so negative, Ducky." she chided. "You never know what could happen. Ziva and Erava…it's amazing we've gone this long without doing anything national-secret worthy with those two under our roof."

"Well, it's not so much that I can't perform the autopsies that has me in such a stupor, Abigail."

"Then what?" Abby asked, booting up the main program.

Ducky frowned. "They said they had someone _better_."

Abby froze. Slowly, she turned around, all kidding gone from her face, all twinkle absent in her dark eyes. "That," she said, fixing the doctor with her impenetrable gaze, as Ducky remembered just how seriously she took this sort of thing, "is _not _true, Ducky. You are the best autopsy, corgi-raising, walking encyclopedia I have ever met."

Ducky smiled. "You flatter me, Abigail." he said.

Abby grinned, knowing her job was done, and whirled back around to her computer, pigtails flying. "However," continued Ducky, "There was that one woman from the Jeffersonian that taught me a thing or two I've never known."

"Ugh." muttered Abby, pulling up a national scanner on the computer, "Don't remind me of that woman." She shook her head. "_Such _a pessimist."

"I merely believe she was very rational, Abigail." corrected the doctor. "Lord knows we need a little more of that around here." he murmured. Since Erava had arrived, things had- if possible- gotten even crazier. If the girl wasn't so clumsy and self-conscious, Gibbs would have to watch her 24/7.

Abby turned, temporarily abandoning her computer, and picked up one of the small tubes that Erava had snuck under her jacket. "Hm." she said, holding it up. The light reflected off the vial, making the green residue sparkle. "Never seen this before." she turned and carried it to the "daddy" of the lab, and put it in one of the slots. "Let's see what you're made of." she muttered to it, bending over and staring at the vial as if it could reveal all its properties under her gaze.

"Any idea what that stuff is?" wondered Ducky.

"Nope." Abby said, rising and bouncing back to her computer. "Never seen anything like it. But we'll find out all this national crisis stuff soon enough." she turned and shot him another tight-lipped smile, no teeth.

"Abbs." yelled a familiar voice, and Tony rounded the corner.

"Present!" Abby yelled back, throwing a hand up in the air.

"Hey Ducky." Tony nodded at the Doctor.

"Ah, good morning, Antony!" exclaimed Ducky. "I suppose you are here to empty all your troubles upon our scientist as I have."

"No." Tony said, blinking.

"Yes, just me, as I presumed." muttered Ducky. "Well," he said, recovering himself and standing carefully off his stool, "I must be going now. Not because I have any work to do, as we all know." he added, addressing both of his younger coworkers. "Till tomorrow." and then he marched out the door.

Tony's eyes followed the doctor around the corner till he vanished from sight. "Okay." he finally said. "Now I'm _really _confused."

"Don't worry." chirped Abby. "Ducky's just in a funk. The CIA people won't give him any of the dead bodies."

"From the attack?" asked Tony in surprise.

"Of course."

"That's weird." he muttered, looking out the window as Abby busied herself with the computer.

"Of course." the scientist replied. "You tend to get weird things in a case when dealing with aliens. Comes with the package."

Tony turned a careful eye on Abby. "Abbs-"

Abby whirled around so quickly Tony stopped in surprise. "Face it Tony." she said. "This is a lot different from crop circles from that case we did forever ago in that freaky little feud town. Something is going down here! And I", she said, walking over and examining the test tubes again. "am going to find out _what_."

"Just don't get your hopes up, Abby." Tony warned. "That case was weird enough. I'll be lucky if I don't go crazy from hearing so many conspiracy theories by the time this is over." He dropped a few files on Abby's sterile table. "Gibbs needs these looked over by the end of today." he added as he turned. "You might want to do them now- he's in a swing." and he left.

Abby narrowed her eyes in the direction he left. "Science never lies." she said to her empty lab. "They'll see. Won't they, babies?"


	4. James Bond and Treason

_RIIIING!_

_Slam!_

Erava shut her locker door so hard that a breeze sprang up from it and pushed her hair back, and the entire rack against the wall rattled as if it were about to fall to pieces. Several frightened-looking freshmen threw surprised glances at her, but it must have been an unusually timid group, because they didn't say anything.

Which was strange. Because normally, even freshmen weren't scared of Erava.

Not that she cared at the moment. This whole stupid Monday was turning out to be the suckiest one yet; after getting kicked out of Computer Science and sitting on the hard cold floor for an hour, she got a fabulous debriefing from the peeved nerd teacher which made her ten minutes late to her next class, got assigned a detention for coming in late without a note, and now she had lost her global studies book _and _her lunch. And it was only one o'clock.

Here, the world seemed to only pay attention to her when it was bent on making her life miserable. Here, she was just another nobody in the halls; just another face in the crowd. She knew in her heart she was different, but honestly? Society scared Erava a little too damn much to try and change that.

Erava sighed as she thought for the millionth time how she seemed to live a double life, like James Bond or the Green Hornet. She thought about how she went from being on board private navy jet planes to investigate terrorist attacks halfway around the country- against the orders of the CIA _and _Homeland security- to winding up back in this hellhole a day later.

For once, she just wished these people here could see her for who she was everyday outside of school- at a place they probably didn't even know existed.

McGee had lectured her on not telling anyone where she worked. It was a security risk, he had said. Give people cell numbers and pagers if you want to. But never tell them where you spend every weekday from four to nine and on Saturdays and Sundays.

McGee had almost gotten killed that way. Some woman after a Korean operative- Erava had never been told who- would have killed him to find out were the operative was, and McGee never would have stood a chance, if he hadn't picked up on the danger by recalling that the woman had shown up to NCIS for a date, and he had never told her where he worked.

Bottom line, no one knew that she was involved in solving the terrorist attacks, or that she worked to unravel the mysteries behind Navy deaths and international secrets, or that she was occasionally allowed to spend some time in the field in a bullet proof vest with a gun strapped around her waist.

No, the only Erava Banes they knew was the socially awkward girl who had only one friend in the whole school and had never been to a real party in her life- leaving out the one time she went to deliver a car to a gangster lord in southern D.C.

They knew nothing about stealing cars, either, seeing as most of the thefts had been way back in boring Tranquility where nothing ever happened.

But there was more than that. Something that was even more surprising than the fact she actually did all this every day after school.

And that was how _easy _it was. Erava wasn't a good liar- she never had been. She sucked at it, actually. As long as no one mentioned anything about mysterious navy crimes that some secret investigative team was covering up, or about global issues that were solved by some random people that spelt CSI wrong on their hats in bullet proof jackets, she was fine.

Keeping secrets must run in the family.

She wondered if it was genetic, or if she had picked it up from Lennox.

"Hola amiga, como te fue tu vacacion?"

Erava turned around and sighed at the sight of her one and only best friend in her entire stupid high school.

Short blonde hair that brushed just below her shoulders from under her ski cap, sparkling, mischievous light blue eyes, and the clearest complexion of any person Erava had ever seen.

Everything about Collins _screamed _trouble.

"Not bad," Erava said, turning to her friend and leaning on her locker, "if our _friends _hadn't gotten involved."

Collins Mardell raised her eyebrows, and, with an inconspicuous glance around, leaned in and mouthed, _FBI_?

Erava shook her head.

Collins whistled. "CIA?" she breathed, her eyes widening.

"And homeland security." Erava muttered, turning to walk up the hallway. They were going to be late for AP Bio if they didn't get a move on now.

"Wow." whispered Collins, both hands on the straps of her book bag- or at least, it looked like a book bag. To Erava, it seemed like a green messenger bag on her back that had a pin stuck on it that portrayed the face of an Asian guy in thick glasses sticking his tongue out at whoever happened to glance at it.

Where she had gotten that from, Erava had yet to guess.

"Yeah, Gibbs is pretty pissed." Erava said quietly, as they weaved their way through a crowd or respectful sophomores who gladly cleared out for the two juniors. "He can't even access the old files of the original Mission City attack, they're so restricted. He has a videoconference with the director of the CIA today. I'm going to bring him an extra large coffee."

Collins shook her head. "Sorry," she said, "but you aren't going to get anywhere with this case, even if you had the old files."

Erava froze in mid-step and turned to stare at her friend. "And why," she asked slowly, cautious of what Collins might say next, "is that?"

Collins stared at Erava with serious, sparkling eyes. "Because," she whispered, "The aliens won't let you. They'll crash your computers and wipe out your hard drives and then they'll bomb your HQ. Don't even try it."

Her answer had been as outrageous as Erava had feared.

"Not you too!" she groaned in exasperation, staring at Collins in disbelief. "You are going for all that robotic alien crap now, just like _them_?" she gestured wildly over at a small group of seniors huddled around a friend's locker, all of them with glasses, or computers, with _End the Silence, Show us the Aliens _stickers stuck on their book bags.

Collins sniffed. "They made a broadcast seventeen years ago." she said. "Dad showed me the video and everything. It was over some boy. And guess what? He was killed just one year later it a giant bombing that the government tried to cover up! Don't you believe that?"

"_Collins_." Erava began seriously, trying to imprint some strain of sanity into her friend's brain, "The broadcast was a prank pulled by the guy's roommates. They admitted to it. And the bombing was over a general that won a controversial battle in Afghanistan a few weeks before, the kid just happened to be there at the time. What the hell does and alien have to do with that?"

"Have you seen the broadcast?" Collins demanded.

"No."

"Then don't judge." she said. The tardy bell rang then, and the two teenagers continued walking up the hall. "You never know." her fiend continued. "There's more to everything than meets the eye."

_No need to tell you your dad is a magician. _Erava thought skeptically, rolling her eyes. As she did so, they passed by a window, and a flash of silver outside caught her eye.

Disregarding the blinding flash, though it seemed familiar, Erava ignored it and hurried with Collins, too preoccupied by the rush to get to class.

They were two minutes late anyways, and locked outside the door.

Story of her life.

_Knock-knock._

Vance gave a heavy sigh and closed his eyes, dropping his pen and retracting his hand from the desk before him to fold over his eyes, rubbing his temples, as if blocking out the light might block out whatever was about to come through his office door.

_Who died this time? Who blew their cover? Did Dinozzo insult another admiral again? _He was so close to finally tying up all the loose ends from the Korean stealth bombing operatives case- so, agonizingly close, so who the hell had the nerve to come in and drag him off his high back down to this hellhole of politics again?

And Lennox's little conversation had not helped with his early morning routine.

_Knock-knock-BANG!_

In spite of himself, the corner of Vance's mouth twitched. "Come in, Jethro." he called, pulling his hands away from his eyes and stashing his pen back in its holder.

"How'd you know it was me?" wondered Gibbs, slipping inside.

"No one else would have the nerve to try and break down my office door." said Vance, stowing his pen back in its holder. "Can I help you?"

It was then that he caught the senior field agent's eye, and then that Vance read his expression clearly for the first time upon his entering the office.

Mouth in a hard line, all bottom-line good humor gone, eyes like thunderclouds- Jethro was not happy.

And if Gibbs wasn't happy…well, as Tony would say, nobody in earth or hell is happy.

"What happened, Jethro?" asked Vance, poker face up like lightning.

Gibbs' stood front and center in his office, still holding a Starbucks coffee cup and said in a completely guarded, quiet tone, "You tell me."

This could only be about one thing.

Vance let out a deep breath through his nose, though his eyes never left the agent's. If he was right - and unfortunately, he was certain that he was- he was about to get a lot of hell for what he was about to say.

Here went nothing.

"I'm pulling you off the Mission City case."

His prediction was right.

"_What_?" Gibbs thundered, and suddenly his calm-before-the-storm mask was completely blown off for his full-on-hurricane face.

"Jethro-"

"You can't pull me off a case just because the CIA are a little too touchy for their own damn good!" Gibbs yelled, cutting straight across the director's faint attempt to calm him. A fire was burning in his grey eyes.

"It's not about that-"

"Then what is it about, Leon?" demanded the ex-marine, his voice suddenly deadly calm as he walked right up to the desk and towered over the director's personal space. "Tell me, because no one seems willing to tell us anything."

"This isn't in our jurisdiction." Vance growled, dark eyes flashing up to him.

"The hell it isn't." growled Gibbs. "A whole bar full of marines died out there three days ago! And no one seems to want us to do our job."

"It's out of my hands, Jethro." Vance said loudly, causing the older man to back down some, though more out of irritation than anything else. "The CIA and Homeland security were only the start of our problems."

Gibbs paused, brow furrowed. "You're saying there's some agency worse out there to be worrying about?" he asked in quiet disbelief.

Vance stood and stared at him with his hawk-eye glare, one only he was capable of mastering, and the man before him. "I just got a phone call five minutes ago." he said. "Do you want to know who it was from?"

Gibbs turned fully to the other man, his deadpan silence and invitation to continue.

"The Secretary of Defense."

A ringing silence filled the room. Gibbs' eyes widened slightly.

"Apparently, this is not in our jurisdiction. It's in the hands of the CIA, top-officials of Homeland Security, and NEST."

There was a pause. "NEST?" asked Gibbs.

"Yes." responded Leon, reaching down to flip open a file. "Apparently, as major Lennox so kindly put it for me in his phone call yesterday, this is all in their business and we have no reason to open an investigation. They have already discovered who was behind the terrorist attacks."

Gibbs frowned. "Who'd they say it was?"

"I don't know." Vance looked up to meet his friend's surprised look. "He didn't say."

Gibbs came to stand in front of the Director again. He isn't a rage or a storm of fury this time- but there is something brewing in those sharp eyes of his. "They are hiding something from us, Leon." he said seriously. "An entire terrorist attack. From us. We're not the public. Why would the CIA, Homeland Security, the Secretary of Defense, and NEST hide something…from us?"

There was a heavy pause. "I don't know, Jethro." Leon said in a low voice, hands on the back of his chair. "NEST never tells us anything anyways, but the rest of this is something I was never expecting. We're in over our heads here. You need to drop this case."

Gibbs' head jerked the slightest bit- like it normally did when he caught on to something. "_I _need to drop this case." he said slowly.

The director allowed a rare smirk to cross his face. "I'm allowing Mrs. Scuito to examine the samples you collected in Mission City. You will be notified on any progress she makes. _Your _team needs to drop this case. That was the Secretary's specific instructions. I know what he meant, but since we're supposed to take every literal thing he says as a command…"

"You found a loophole." Gibbs murmured. And then he grinned. "I'm proud of you, Leon."

"Understand, Jethro." Vance said, sobering again, "The Department and the other agencies won't see it that way. That's our defense, but I'd rather only use it as a last resort." His dark gaze burned into the senior field agent's. "If this get's out from underground, we could be charged for high treason."

Gibbs shrugged. "That's nothing new."

"You were fooling us all then." argued Vance, referring to the DOMINO incident. "Unless Abby plans to test on fake samples, this is real. And that's _all _I want done. Laboratory tests. You're done with this. If you even investigate into old Mission City files or anything else, the CIA will start investigating _us_. We can't risk this getting blown."

"So this is just a forensic case?" he murmured quietly.

"I'm sorry." said Vance. "But that's all we can do. Do not take anyone outside of your team into intelligence. Mrs. Scuito will have to have special safety regulations in her lab so that she isn't interrupted and so that no one suspects anything. This is classified as Top Secret."

Gibbs nodded, still not pleased, but a little bit pacified. He turned to leave.

He was at the door when the Director called him back. "Jethro."

Gibbs turned, one hand on the door handle. Vance's eyes glowered dark as he said, "No risks. Understand? I want to know who is behind this. I want to know who is bombing our cities and why the government is letting them get away with it."

Gibbs sighed through his nose, looking unreadable. "Me too, Leon." he said, opening the door. "Me too."

Vance settled back down at his desk, feeling the weight of what they were about to do settle on his shoulders. Never before had he encouraged- let alone authorized- his agents to break the rules. To defy orders from SecDef. To commit treason.

If the magnitude of what they were doing was given to an earthquake, the thing would have rocked the building and torn it down wall to wall.

Just as he thinks he might not be able to deal with this in his current state, he glances up, and sees something on his desk that makes him smile- cause he knows Gibbs wouldn't forget something so treasured in his morning routine. He picks up the white coffee cup and takes a sip. It's still hot- and untouched- and the caffeine clears his mind. With a sigh, he set it down, letting the heat seep through his fingers, and began filling out a report to the SecDef, Navy, CIA, and Homeland Security saying that he had ordered the team to drop the case and release any evidence collected.

The only witnesses to the meeting went unnoticed. The first was a red-tailed hawk, an unusual sight this far in the city, who was perched outside his window on the branches of an oak tree. The bird spread its wings and, with a faint cry that wasn't heard through the bulletproof glass, flew off in search of something only known to his mind.

The second, a black SUV parked across the street next to the marina that made the asphalt pale in comparison to its darkness silently started up its engine and prowled away down the streets, completely ignoring the red light at the intersection before it turned around the corner and vanished.


	5. Operation Underground

Erava yawned as the elevator pinged and she stepped out of the small, confined space into the wide office of NCIS headquarters. Little lamps on various desks lit the place in a warm golden glow, something she loved about the place. At night, the blazing fluorescents in the ceiling above that made her feel like she was in the dentist's office under a microscope got shut off, and replaced with these.

It was much more welcoming.

"You're late." Tony observed as she passed by his desk. Ziva simply looked up, dark eyes flashing, and flashed a smile in greeting.

"I know." she replied cryptically, walking back to her smaller, more concealed desk.

"Evening." McGee said softly,glancing up from his computer. Erava smiled. "Where's Gibbs?" she wondered.

"MTAC." the probie answered.

Tony, however, stared at her as she sat down, his computer temporarily forgotten, brow furrowed. When Erava blatantly ignored him and kept her eyes down on her desk, pulling a few files of what they_ did _have on Mission City out, he slammed the space bar without looking down, pausing his Mario game in the middle of an epic battle against evil turtles and demons with mushrooms and stars flying all over the place.

He silently stood, earning himself a curious look from Ziva, before slowly making his way over to the girl's desk.

"Care to share?" he asked lightly, with a DiNozzo Smile.

Erava grimaced- breaking through the blank charade. She was a sucky liar. "Not really." she said in an off-hand voice.

DiNozzo's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Boy trouble?"

"No!" she exclaimed, finally looking up- and looking peeved. "_No_- sit _down_, DiNozzo."

He laughed at her awkwardness, before suddenly breaking off and giving her one of those goofy Dinozzo looks- a stare full of intensity and _bitch please _attitude, one eyebrow cocked, head slightly to the side.

It worked.

"I had detention." Erava squeaked, cracking.

She had the whole team's undivided attention now.

Tony laughed, shaking his head. "And I thought you actually did something bad." he said, getting up from her desk. "Or at least mildly interesting. Wait, did you kill someone?"

Erava face palmed.

"Um, detention _is _bad, Tony." stated McGee.

"Maybe for you, little McMuffin." growled Tony in a pompous manner.

"What exactly did you do?" asked Ziva, coming over as well. Unlike the other two, she still had her gun strapped around her waist.

"I…" Erava knew she was blushing, based off Tony's grin alone. "I broke a computer- or my teacher thinks I did. I didn't even touch it!"

"Of course not." said Ziva, but something about the way she said it sounded…off.

Erava gaped at her. "You don't believe me, do you!"

Ziva quirked her eyebrows and avoided the girl's gaze.

"Don't come near me." called McGee, his hands hovering protectively over his precious keyboard.

"Your track record isn't that straight, kid." said Tony, settling back on her desk again. "In fact, it's about as crooked as Ducky's mother's mental state." he grimaced.

"You never told me how that protection detail went, by the way." said Ziva curiously, crossing her arms. "When you had to watch her with the Meat Puzzle."

"Let's just say I walked away with a dislike of moving furniture and an irrational fear of corgis." muttered Tony, shuddering.

"Well you're going to have a very rational fear of my foot up your ass if you don't get back to your seat, DiNozzo." snapped Gibbs, appearing out of nowhere behind them and rounding the corner of his desk. He looked frazzled and rather pissed.

"I take it MTAC didn't go well." said Ziva, as Tony was too frightened to say anything at the moment.

"If you count kissing Homeland Security's ass as 'not going well', then you just might be on to something, Ziva." growled Gibbs, settling at his desk and pulling out some files.

"So we are giving up this case?" Erava asked in sharp disbelief. "Homeland Security doesn't have any hold over us. They can't do that!" she exclaimed.

"No, but the Secretary of Defense can." replied Gibbs, turning his sharp gaze onto the girl. "What's this about detention?"

Erava's cheeks tinted pink again, but she didn't drop her gaze. Luckily, Tony came to her rescue. "When did the SecDef get involved in this?" he asked, turning to face them in his rolling chair.

"Called the Director yesterday." said Gibbs. "Said we couldn't do the case anymore- and don't play anymore damn video games, Tony."

Tony flinched, in the act of turning off his monitor. As usual, Gibbs was psychic.

"Well if the Secretary of Defense is suddenly involved, then there is little we can do about it." observed Ziva.

"Yeah, but why is the Secretary involved in this first place?" wondered McGee, glancing between the ex-Mossad agent and his boss.

"Terrorist attack ring a bell, probie?" asked Tony.

"Yeah, but he shouldn't be sticking his face in NCIS investigations." said Erava, glancing around at them.

Gibbs abandoned his file. "He should be dealing with the damn terrorists and the threat of another attack." he growled in agreement.

"It almost seems", said Ziva slowly, "as though he is more concerned with NCIS getting involved in this case than actually discovering who the perpetrators were."

McGee frowned. "Yeah. It's almost as if-"

"He already knows who they are." snapped Gibbs, throwing his files on the desk.

An uneasy silence fell on the entire team. They all looked at each other as a strange sense of dread began to creep up, and Erava suddenly realized they were dealing with something much bigger than they had previously imagined. Something that just might be the greatest conspiracy the Unties States had ever seen. The thought that the head of their armed forces- and God knew who else- might be withholding information about the worst group of terrorists they had ever seen was enough to raise the hairs on the back of her neck. This wasn't just dangerous- this was _crazy_.

And they were about to get right in the middle of it.

If only she had known…

* * *

Music pounded in the background, rebounding of the flat sterile surfaces like faint echoes in a crypt. Abby had everything to complete the gothic forensic scientist mojo; Halloween party music, donuts with extra sprinkles, and a giant caff-pow already half in her system, buzzing her limbs with energy and enhancing the sharp clarity of her mind.

But she wasn't happy.

She stood glaring over the test tubes being analyzed- for the third time, by the lab's Daddy. The machine was running the scans like usual. The computers in the corner of her vision were still whizzing a chaos of shapes and colors against the results- again, and still, nothing.

Abby freaking Scuito, the Punk Princess of Cobwebs and Science and All Things Abby, had nothing.

It was worse than working cold case files.

It was worse than going over evidence that has been processed and ruined by 90's technology.

It was _awful_.

"So let me get this straight." a voice carried down the hallway, reaching her sharp ears, but Abby didn't break her pose for a moment. "We, as in NCIS-" they came into her lab now, voices clear and loud over the music, "-are running an underground investigation on this case. And then we- as in us- are-"

"Can you be a little louder DiNozzo, please?" demanded Gibbs. Erava left the group to turn the volume down on the silver boom box.

"Sorry, boss." Tony said rapidly. "So basically, we're running an underground investigation…_on _our underground investigation." He raised his eyebrows at the whole group. "We're talking about government conspiracy here. We'll be lucky if we're not all dead by the time this thing is over- or maybe one of Abby's aliens will suck our brains out."

"Speaking of Abby." murmured Gibbs, and the whole team turned around.

Everyone watched for a record five seconds in silence as the scientist continued to stare down at the test tubes, arms crossed, back straight and stiff, mouth set in a hard line and brow furrowed.

"Abby." they all said at once.

"Don't distract me, guys." she snapped, narrowing her eyes even further at the test tubes. "I'm in the middle of something very big right now."

"Abby, they aren't going to blink." said Ziva, looking confused, as McGee wandered over to the computer. "Still scanning?" he asked, recognizing the scan of weapons from the naval and army and known terrorist databases.

Abby ignored him and turned around, facing the remaining bulk of the team. "Do you know what this is?" she asked, holding up a tiny vial of the green substance that had been clenched in her hand. "Any idea at all?"

Gibbs blinked at the vial that was just inches away from his face. "No."

"Neither do I!" she exclaimed, whirling back around and striding over to the other test tubes. "I have run every single scan I can think of, and nothing is coming up! I would try an experiment, but these things were used to blow holes in _skyscrapers _in a freaking _terrorist _attack. If I just do a blind experiment, I could blow up my lab!"

Erava frowned at the green substance, thinking about Mission City, while Gibbs wandered over to stand behind the scientist. "Abby, there has to be something." he said. "Did you run the scan on the database?"

"Yes, Gibbs!" Abby yelled, grabbing his wrist and pulling him over to the still-working computers. "Three times! Every single weapon known to man- and it's not on here! I can't find anything. I can't even compare it to anything. It's like something out of a science fiction movie or God knows what- I'm coming up _blank here!"_

Tony stared at the screens, standing next to McGee, and no doubt making a lot less sense out of it than the probie was. He opened his mouth, but before he could get a single word out, he was interrupted.

"No one movie reference, DiNozzo." growled Gibbs, his back to the agent.

"Yes boss." Tony said, eyes wide. How the hell did the man even _see _him? McGee grinned, earning him an increadilous look from the senoir filed agent.

"So we have a weapon substance," Ziva concluded, "That is possibly the most dangerous element we have ever seen, and we're handling it through little glass tubes?"

"Yeah, um," said Erava, feeling a little freaked, "What if we get like- radiation poisoning or something? What about our little 'underground underground' operation then?" she asked.

"If it was radioactive, we wouldn't have been walking around in that city." Gibbs reminded them, looking a little exasperated.

Ziva and Erava blinked. "Oh."

"Too bad." called McGee. "Would have given them the perfect excuse for you three not to be there."

"Yeah." said Gibbs, looking at the samples. "Good thing we're experts at sneak attacks."

"Yeah, well, the CIA is probably never going to let us out of there sight again, if they haven't already." the probie answered. He turned around, looking confused. "You've run this three times?" he asked Abby, as the screens continued to flash behind him. She gave a surly nod.

"So basically we have nothing." Erava concluded, leaning against a table. "On the 'underground' investigation. Or wait, the 'underground underground' investigation?"

"We should really get a codename." piped up Tony.

"Your job in your free time, Tony." Gibbs looked around at them all. "The Director has already assigned an operation name to the 'underground' investigation."

"Which is?" asked Tony, turning around.

"Operation Underground." their boss replied, as if it should have been obvious.

There were a few seconds of silence.

Tony snickered, then dropped his face at Gibbs' look. "Um…you're kidding, right?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding, DiNozzo?" demanded Gibbs.

"Sorry boss." he said, struggling to explain himself. "It's just that…well you know, it's pretty much the same as…okay." he finished lamely, dropping it.

"You can come up with our codename if it makes you happy." Gibbs told him, before turning away from the two agents and back to his forensic scientist. "In the mean time-"

"Go through Mission City files that are accessible, look for connection to this attack." Tony said, unfolding is arms and striding out the room.

"McGee-"

"Access files for Tony that he probably can't even open." finished the probie, following the senior field agent's footsteps.

"And no hacking." Gibbs called after him.

"On it, boss!"

"Ziva, cover."

"Find us a new case." she realized, heading for the door.

"Abby-"

"Do tests that don't involve blowing up my lab!" she said brightly. "On it, Gibbs!" she saluted sharply, eyes bright. He smiled at her, and then turned to his youngest field agent.

"Erava-"

She perked up from where she had been playing with the radio antennae. He stared at her for a minute.

"Well, that's…pretty much everything, Gibbs." she said nervously. "Um…unless you want me to-"

"Categorize all we have on Mission City so far." he told her. "And make it discrete." they headed for the door together. "If anyone asks, your filing it up for storage and transport to the CIA."

"'Kay."

He stopped in the middle of the hallway, glaring.

"_O_kay?" she tried.

"Detention?" she demanded, looking like a pissed-off father.

Erava's face fell. "Look, look I know what my teacher said, bit I didn't-"

"I don't care what you _didn't _do, Erava." he interrupted, cutting off her spaz attack at its start. "What I care about is what you _did _do."

She stared at him in disbelief. "It was _nothing_!" she exclaimed, eyes wide.

He quirked and eyebrow.

She raised two back. "Computer trouble." she told him evenly.

Gibbs blinked. Then he turned without a word and headed down the hallway.

Erava stood there, biting back a smile, then snickered to herself, and followed her boss back the way they had come.

* * *

All in all, it was a semi-successful day. Part of her was worried (read; _freaking _out) that they were technically breaking the law here (if someone who once stole cars can have a fear of the law) but, if what they discovered help put a stop to all this impending government madness, it would so be worth it.

Collins was waiting for her outside next to her white Corolla, twirling her keys idly. Her mind was filled with rainbows and complex Calculus homework and whatever God had seen fit to put in there that no other human being could understand; Erava's were filled with ridiculous paperwork on Mission City and possible conspiracies.

"Hey." she said, approaching her friend.

"Hey yourself, agent." Collins replied with a smirk.

Erava rolled her eyes. Collins may be psycho, but, as working with NCIS had proved, sanity was not the most important virtue. "Thanks for picking me up."

"No problem." her friend replied. She leaned across the roof of the car as Erava walked to the passenger side. "You look a little run-down. Tough say?"

Erava sighed as she opened the door, one hand clenching the frame. She had been stuck with fragging _paper work_, and the fact that each time she filled out a report with one witness statement and pretty much absolutely nothing that plane and Silver Boy popped into her mind was making her teeth grit. "I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." she told her, mind slightly frazzled.

Collin's bottle-blue eyes widened. "That's…wait, that's actual tell-me-kill-me, not just haha the usual kinda joking tell-me-kill-me, isn't it?"

Wordlessly, Erava's eyes slowly flickered from her friend up to the Director's window.

Collin's eyes, if possible, got even bigger. Then she burst out laughing.

"What is your problem?" Erava asked irritably. She was used to being outcast enough- she didn't like to be laughed at, especially by her best friend.

"Ooh, nothing." Collins said, swiping off her beanie and wiping her eyes with it. "It's just- I'd never thought you'd get sucked into one of those alien things, you know? Your just so…I don't know, _there_." she said, obviously trying not to use the word 'average.' Even with the whole stealing cars part.

Erava rolled her eyes again. "Yeah, me neither." she admitted.

Before she could get in the car, Collins turned to her across the roof, a conspiratal gleam in her eyes

"So…got any dirt of the aliens yet?" she asked, as if they were simply talking about a new boy in school.

Erava internally sighed. _Lies to the public, take one_. "We're giving the case over to the CIA. Our grounds for investigation got hijacked."

"On what _charges_?" exclaimed Collins, sounding uncharacteristically outraged.

Erava shrugged. "SecDef?"

Her friend's jaw dropped.

"That's something you'll have to tell me on the ride home." she said, sliding the key in the lock and unlocking her door- the damn thing had jammed, she had been standing there for so long.

She tried to start the engine, and it idled hard. "Piece of crap." she muttered. "Erava?"

Erava wasn't listening. She was frozen outside the car, one hand still on the open doorframe, staring down the street.

"Earth to Erava!" yelled Collins, leaning across the seat. "What planet are you on, Cyborg?"

Erava blinked, and a cold autumn breeze brushed past her face, sending the tendrils of dark hair around her face dancing. "Nothing." she said, answering a question that Collins hadn't asked. Her best friend's eyes clouded in confusion.

"What?"

"Nothing." Erava repeated, shaking her head. She climbed into the car, slamming the door shut. "Get me home, please. I can still see letters floating around from all the damn paperwork I've been doing."

"Okie dokie." her best friend chirped in response, casting one last quizzical glance at her friend as she turned and backed out of the parking spot.

Erava didn't say anything about it. She didn't say anything about Operation Underground or Operation Underground-Underground, as Tony had temporarily dubbed it- either. She simply smiled and nodded at all of Collins' stories, complained about detention, shared some Abby moments of the day- God, Collins was _obsessed _with Abby- and told herself that the shiny silver sports car that had disappeared around the bend wasn't a Stingray, though it sure as hell looked like one.

* * *

**A/N; As usual, it is thanks to the reveiws that i decided to keep writting. I actually almost abandoned this chapter, till i saw the newest one. Thanks guys! You are my life! :P**


	6. Late Night

The house was quiet and dark when she got there. As usual.

Ziva wasn't home much. She didn't expect her to be.

Erava slid through the door quietly and flicked the lights on. The house was small, and on the very fringes of the city (you could tell because it actually had what could be considered a yard, front and back.) she turned the T.V on to ZNN and wandered into the kitchen, scavenging their small supply of power bars, cereal, take out, and home-food basics for something to eat.

This little arrangement of theirs wasn't exactly picture perfect. But it was definitely enough, considering the alternative.

She hadn't _meant _to steal the car. Any of them, actually. It had just sort of…happened. She was standing there on a city block in southern D.C one minute, making her way home to her foster family's hotel during their business trip to the capital, when a sleek, shiny red sports car had come tearing around the curb and ninety miles an hour, rising up on two wheels before slamming back down. The car had swerved and hit the curb, and Erava had to leap out of the way before she became the main ingredient in a Ferrari grill-and-Erava-sandwich up against the concrete wall.

The man inside cursed, ripped off his ski mask, checked the gear shift, and then suddenly looked up.

Deer-in-headlights-look didn't cover it.

He pulled out a heavy black gun and leveled it at her. "Get in."

She often wondered why he didn't just shoot her right then, but she wasn't complaining.

Sometime during the chase, she even had to take the wheel as he fired at the cop cars behind her, and realized why they were having so much trouble in the first place.

The firing of guns over her head; the bullets of the police unintentionally aimed at her- maybe it was reflex, maybe it was some cruel twist of fate into getting her where she was now, but either way, she pulled off the parking brake that had been on since the beginning, double-checked the way he had hot-wired the car (she used to play around in Foster Family Number One's garage all the time as a little kid- by age fourteen, she could effectively take any engine apart and put it back together) plus using a little of the skill the neighborhood kids had taught her, saying they learned it from the old mechanic up the street- he used to be a car thief. And so, without even realizing it, she had just corrected the to-be gang master of D.C and helped him steal one of the most expensive cars in the city.

"You work for us," they told her.

"Go screw yourselves," she had told them.

It was on her life again.

So, she had done it. She had never hurt anyone; she never shot or stabbed or run over anybody in her joyriding. Not once.

She had just been biding her time.

And then she had stolen a car that, unknown to her, had been owned by a major fraud marine who had conned his last boss out of a year's salary, and was lying murdered in the dumpster just yards away, and had no idea.

She had stolen the biggest piece of the crime scene without even realizing it.

They had caught her, and it had been brilliant in the way they did. Her foster family's business trip had lasted for three months. And she had stolen three cars and gotten brought in by NCIS in that amount of time.

So, lucky for her she was brought in by Gibbs, but unlucky she was brought in by _Gibbs_.

Anyone else would have thrown her into juvie without a second thought. But no one else would have ever caught her.

"I'll believe you," he says, "if you tell me where the car is."

"And if I don't?" she asks.

"Juvie. Permanent record. Your choice."

She had chosen to stray from the Dark Side. So she told him where the car was, relayed her story with the wall-grille-Erava sandwich, omitted stealing the other two, and begged him not to let her down.

He didn't.

She came off without a record, she was clean in every sense of the word, despite the fact that there was still a major car thief wanted in Virginia and Maryland. The District of Columbia thief had been cleared, so she took that as her pass.

"Why did you do it?" he asked, as they sat on the low, broad windowsill inside the headquarters, just outside his little fortress of cubicles.

She stared at the steaming mug between her hands. "I don't know." she replied.

"Everyone has a reason. You're not a thrill seeker, Banes. You're not a problem child, either. Why did you do it?"

Because she was sick of being left alone all the time? Sick of never being noticed after being kicked around from foster family to foster family and back again? Sick of feeling like she didn't belong on this planet, like there was certainly somewhere she did, but she could never get back to it?

"I don't want to go back to California." she whispered.

"You were trying to buy your way out." he guessed.

"Not like that." she told him, but let him think what he wanted. "I actually like it here. I want to stay. I don't want to go back. Ever."

Because, even though this man brought her in for interrogation, she felt like he actually cared about her, in a way no one else ever had. And Abby. And Doctor Mallard. All of them.

He stood, and she looked up in surprise. "That's up to your family." he told her. "But, if you ever do come back…we could really use a criminal specialist on our team." he winked, and then left, coffee cup in hand.

Everyone had been shocked to the bone when Ziva, of all people, had volunteered to let her stay with her after Foster Family Number Seven had announced she was going back into the system once they got home.

"She didn't want to do any of this, Gibbs." Ziva said, as Erava and Tony listened silently outside the conference room door. "And…I feel like I can help her."

"You see yourself in her." Gibbs said, his insight uncanny. Erava's arms prickled. She loved Ziva, but being anything _like _her scared the crap out of her.

"She's not a bad kid, Gibbs. I know I can help."

So here she was.

NCIS agent in training, because Gibbs had a soft spot for anyone who reminded him even vaguely of his daughter, and had swung a deal with Vance, who had been interested for other reasons.

He called her in, to everyone's anxiety and confusion, and she stood in front of his desk, feeling more nervous than she ever had in front of any principle.

"You…wanted to see me?"

"It's come to my attention that you have another legal guardian outside the foster care system."

She swallowed.

"Major William Lennox of NEST. Why didn't you mention this before?"

"It didn't seem necessary." she kept her eyes on the carpet.

"I can see there's a lot more to you than meets the eye, Miss Banes." he said, leaning forward with his hands clasped over his desk. "I did not see that one coming. But I look forward to having you work with us in NCIS."

"Sure."

"And another thing. Every case that you work on is going to be within the lowest clearance level we have. Don't' push for more, and if more comes to you, don't say a word to anyone. Understood?"

"Clearly."

"Good. I wish you luck with Gibbs."

"Thanks."

She smiled to herself. That seemed so long ago, but it was only about…what, five months?

When Will had come back from overseas, he had nearly blown his head off. She was surprised than he even seemed to care so much- after all, she was only over for what, Thanksgiving and Christmas, one night of the year? But it didn't matter. She had a family now.

She picked up her glass of ice water and drifted up the stairs and to her room, and leaned against the window frame, watching the thick, towering silver rectangles of the city that rose above the trees to light up the night.

She had her own family now, or as much of one as she could have ever hoped for. Sometimes, when she thought of the parents she never remembered- if she had ever even known them- she tried to imagine what it would be like. How things would be different.

She wondered what they were like, and decided on her own that they must have been the best people imaginable. Will had never told her who they were, only that they were friends, and hinted that they had died long ago. But what about their friends? Had any of them ever wondered about her? Had she had any godparents? Was her life really just one big Harry Potter story?

She looked down at her glass, moving it in circles so that the water swirled and the ice clinked together. Yeah, NCIS is about as fairy-tale as it gets. She could see it. Vaguely.

* * *

Abby's fingers dug into her ancient Hippo's soft, fuzzy sides, and the rude sound released into the air as a response did not do anything ellevate her frustration.

Not one damn bit.

"What you got, Abbs?" asked a voice behind her.

Abby spun around a cursed violently, eyes wide and wild. "Gibbs, don't do that to me!" she yelled, putting one black-finger nailed hand over her pounding chest. "You're going to give me and my hippo a heart attack here!"

He smiled softly, and held up a king-sized calf-pow fit for the dead.

"I love you," she said in a rush, and grabbed for the caffeine with her free hand.

"What have you got?" he repeated, as Abby sucked appreciatively on the red straw.

She finally found it in herself to take a break and a gulp of air, her mouth feeling like a chilly ice cave. "I've identified two different substances." she said, walking over to the tray. "Neither are radioactive, but there's something kinky about the blue one on the left. I'm still sacred to death to do any experiments on it, but all my scans can tell you is that it's nothing like we've ever seen before."

He raised his eyebrows.

"I'll give you more on that later."

"And the pictures?"

"I'll get to those tomorrow."

She turned back around, looking at the samples again, her face illuminated strangely by the glowing tray. "There's a mystery here, Gibbs." she said. "Just like any other mystery we have. Like we do every day. I'm not sure what these little vials are hiding from me, but I'm going to find out. I will find out."

She looked up. Gibbs was gone.

Abby held up her little hippo, staring into his beady black eyes. "I hate it when he does that." she confided into him. The little stuffed animal gave off a loud, echoing fart.

"Excuse you." she tells him, and turn back to her computers, beginning to run a program she knows will take forever to complete.

* * *

"Abby have anything?" Tony called from his desk, working by the light of a small lamp.

"Two different substances." replied Gibbs.

Tony sets his pen down, looking concerned. "That's not much for Abby."

"She knows. It's pissing her off." The old man hesitates, sighs, and sets his coffee cup down on his desk with a little more force than necessary. "It's pissing me off, too."

"Maybe you should take a break, boss." suggested Tony carefully, not wanting to antagonize his father-figure.

Gibbs sighs, passes a hand over his face, and stands. "We all should." He grabs his coat and drops his cup in the trash can. "Go home." he tells them. "Get some sleep."

"Boss, I've almost got the documentation-"

"Tomorrow." he ordered McGee. "I need you all awake if we're going to get anything done then." he stormed to the elevator.

Ziva's dark eyes glanced from the man's retreating figure and back again. "I guess with Gibbs, that's about as close as it comes to saying he cares about us."

Tony made a face, and didn't argue. This was all just getting too kinky.

* * *

_Meh. Not the most exciting chapter. But just hold on, things are about to get interesting…_


End file.
